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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26498272">Hold</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/t0x1cm4sc/pseuds/t0x1cm4sc'>t0x1cm4sc</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hunger Games Series - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Discussion of Forced Prostitution, F/M, Nightmares, but with very vague language hes a linguist master, he is not having it but that’s fine, its as much of a discussion as it can be, mention of sexual assault, shes trying to get this to be More of a discussion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:29:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,848</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26498272</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/t0x1cm4sc/pseuds/t0x1cm4sc</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Finnick wakes up from a nightmare and abruptly confesses to what he does in the Capitol.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Annie Cresta/Finnick Odair</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Canon Odesta</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hold</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>⠀⠀She woke up to him moving around, which wasn’t entirely abnormal but /this/ wasn’t normal either. The way he moved was violent, pushing the blanket off him and gripping at his skin. He mumbled too, soft “no”s and “stop”s and she felt so helpless as she watched him twist and turn in her own sleepy haze.<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀He’d woken her up with plenty of nightmares before, but they were never this bad. This was the worse she’s seen, and it scared her. It scared her that something could hurt him, especially so badly it interrupted his sleep like this.<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀Of course she knew his games hurt him, the games hurt them all, but he was only a /boy/ then, of course they hurt him. He was only a boy and too young to understand that hurt, by the time he could understand it he was grown and someone famous and adored, he couldn’t take the time to be hurt. She /knew/ this. But the mumbling, the words she could make out, didn’t line up with his games. He had perfect control then, or so he thought he did, even now he seemed to. This was something else, and that thought made her sick with worry.<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀She got herself to wake up fully, /needing/ to so she could help him, and took a moment just to watch him, to gauge things. But this got too much, he moved in /pain/, gasped, he looked so hurt. She couldn’t let that go on, she’d be just as bad as whoever had hurt him if she let this continue.<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀Instead she got a hand on him as she sat up, resting on his shoulder and shaking it gently. “Finnick, honey, wake up,” she said gently, watching for a reaction and frowning when all she got was him jerky away from her touch. “Finnick, I need you to wake up.” She went on, more firmer than before, needing to get through to him.<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀Eyes shot open, a hand grabbed and /gripped/ hers. He looked so horrified, it shattered her. “Annie,” he spoke in a gasp, as if her heart could hurt anymore.<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀”I’m right here, Finn,” she cooed, gently pulling her hand from his grasp and instead holding his. Her other hand on his face as she leaned over him, almost protectively. “What’s wrong? What was your dream about?”<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀He shook his head, didn’t speak. He looked small under her gaze and touch, he looked nearly pathetic. Not that she thought that of him, but someone surely would, and she couldn’t help that word from coming to mind.<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀This would be a moment where words were hard for him to come by, she could tell; that was okay, she’d coax him, get him to open up so she could help.<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀”Who was hurting you?” She asked, frowning when he shook his head. “No, Finnick, you /have/ to talk to me, so I can help.”<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀He shook his head again, but she watched and he moved to sit up. Still he kept a grip on her one hand, and she kept her hand securely to his cheek. She waited patiently, she had to. He had to talk and in order for that to happen she couldn’t try and fill in blanks for him.<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀”No one, really,” he whispered, moving to hug onto her. No looks at each other, no holding hand or face, just holding her. She could hold him back, that was easy enough. “Just… hands, touch, I’m sorry I woke you up.”<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀This wasn’t even close to what she could’ve expected, but she nodded as if she understood in case he decided to look at her. “Okay,” she says gently, not asking any further. That was more of a response than she got most nights, and she’d take it calmly.<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀He seemed content in her taking that answer, beginning to relax in her hold against her. He moved, tugging her down with him to lay back down. Maybe they’d go back to sleep, she hoped he could, that he could sleep more restfully.<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀He rubbed her back, and she moved her hands to play in his hair as she watched the first morning light filter through the curtains. This was okay, she could settle into this rhythm and she could drift back off.<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀At least ten minutes had to have passed, between how the room got increasingly brighter and she got closer to sleep she knew that. Ten minutes had passed when Finnick was abruptly talking, disconnected and monotone.<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀”I don’t like what they have me do in the Capitol.” He started, flat, maybe mean if it hadn’t been said to her. “They don’t care though, they like me.”<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀It took a minute for what he said to process, she was so close to falling asleep again and what he said already confused her. But she got it, and with what he said before things started to fit into place, although she refused to believe it.<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀”They love me, you know that, that’s why they keep taking me away from you. Because they love me, they love me, Annie,”<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀”Not real.” She started quickly, not moving from her spot. Physically all had stayed the same, no need to disrupt the one bit of peace he had. “They don’t, they couldn’t. I love you, they don’t.”<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀She hoped he nodded, hoped the words clicked and that’d be the end of whatever conversation this was supposed to be. She knew that was too hopeful though, even if it was the end clearly he wasn’t happy, clearly what he said already wasn’t /good/. And even more so, clearly her words hadn’t clicked.<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀”They love me,” he repeated, her heart hurt. “They have for so long,” and he paused, and she waited. Even if it had become a moment where he couldn’t talk, she didn’t know if she could either. She didn’t know what she’d say. “That’s why they sell me.” Every word he said was so gentle but so monotone, so abrupt but so calculated. She wondered how much he was hurting, she wondered how much she could heal.<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀”They sell you?” She asked carefully, stroking a hand through his hair which caused a sort of knee jerk reaction. His body tensed so immediately, moved back from her, curled in on himself and hid his face in his hands. All she could do was allow him this, if this helped him, then this is what he shall do.<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀”President Snow,” nothing good ever came of starting a sentence with that man’s name. “He sells me, to people, to… to those who really love me.”<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀She frowned, watched him carefully, wished she could see his mouth so she could tell when he’d speak next. “No one who loves you would pay for you,” she said gently,<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀He shook his head quickly, tightened the ball he was in. “They do, Annie, more than you.”<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀She knew then he was just saying things, just trying to justify things. Because Finnick knew she loved him more than anything, Finnick knew she loved him beyond sex, beyond his victory. Finnick knew that she loved him wholeheartedly and completely, no one in the Capitol was capable of that.<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀”He sells your body,” she corrected, putting a gentle hand on him. She wasn’t sure she had all the pieces, but she didn’t need them. She had enough. She knew he went away for weird bits of time, she knew now that they touched him, that they touched him in a way that scared him, she already knew he didn’t like being touched, and now she knew he was sold. What other conclusion could she come to?<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀He jerked back from her hand though, and she didn’t persist with it. He was scared of touch, she reminded herself, she couldn’t be the one to scare him worse. Instead she just stayed where she was, other than sitting up she didn’t move at all. She’d like to move closer, but she instead shifted away from him slightly, hoping that was the right move.<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀”No, he sells /me/, all of me.” He corrected, almost aggressively, “they buy all of me.”<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀”They don’t,” she said patiently, “they couldn’t tell you anything about /you/, why would they know all that? They buy your body, not you.”<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀He shook his head, all she wanted was to reach out to him, hold his hand at the very least, but she /couldn’t/, she couldn’t upset him. “There’s nothing more they need to know, that’s all I am.”<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀”No, Finnick that's not true.” She said gently, very carefully brushing a hand through his hair and watching for his reaction. She was pretty sure no reaction was more upsetting than the violent ones. “You’re so much, you’re so wonderful, they don’t have any piece of you,”<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀She waited for a response that didn’t come, so she quietly played with his hair, soon she carefully moved to be laying down again. “Can I hold you?” She asked carefully, but he shook his head, so she changed the question. “Can you hold me?”<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀He nodded silently, moving out of the ball and putting his arms around her. She didn’t dare move closer than he held her, but this was better than moments before. At least he was more responsive like this.<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀”They only have as much as you give them,” she said gently, but he shook his head quickly, “I’ll drop it,” she added, kissing so gently at his shoulder, “we can talk about it later, okay? Whenever you want, it’s up to you.”<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀She supposed though, thinking about it, the reason he must’ve freaked out is he had to go back to the Capitol today. So she’d try to coax him to sleep, he’s getting some good rest before he went back to them. She had assumed, of course, that he didn’t /like/ it there, not with him continuing to go despite them being together, but this was worse than she would have assumed. This was wretched, heartbreaking, and there was nothing she could do.<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀Or no, she could let him hold her, hold him when he let her. She could be gentle, let him be gentle. She couldn’t stop the Capitol, for whatever reason he had to go back, she couldn’t, but she could be here for him. Maybe another time they'd talk about it more, when he wasn’t so tired, when he was up to talking. She could be patient, wait it out and help how she could.<br/>
⠀⠀<br/>
⠀⠀She may not be able to break the cycle, but she could and would make it easier for him. She’d learn how to wake him up without all that fear in his eyes, and she’d learn how to get him to let her hold him. It could take some time, but what’d that matter? They had plenty of it, she was sure. She wasn’t going anywhere, and why would he go anywhere that he wouldn’t return from? They had all the time in the world, she had all the time to help.</p>
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